Would it be neat?

Like strangers, unfamiliar souls... We shall again be...Wouldn't it be neat?

Wiping our past and future clean....Decades forgotten in an heartbeat

We shall walk apart.. our memories kicked away in the dust of our feet

You...walk away a few steps ahead..Just another face...you see and never meet

Yes, we shall be vagabond souls on a crowded street...

I wonder though...will our eyes betray our souls and our feet...

Will they still exchange a glance...Will our hearts like before skip a beat?

Will we like strangers once again  intuitively meet?

Only to take the same road again to love or will we destiny defeat?

Yes, I often wonder...if we would be strangers again..would we be destiny or will we never meet?

A room called grief...

There is a room in my house... Yes...grief...
Only I know the way to this elusive room...
A room that  in solitude contains all my grief...
And yet it has no walls to contain it...this room
I try to tell you the way to find and share my grief..
You knock, hoping to find my make-believe room..
It hides in plain sight like unexpressed love, this grief
There are no windows here that lets light into gloom
The darkness so bright...you never see this grief
You knock again,as you want to peek into my doom
I open the door and call out to my grief..
I turn back to show you my grief... my gloom
It disappears..thin air...My eternal yet ephemeral grief....
I turn back to you and try to say..there was a room
You smile and say.."Yes, I know...I don't know your grief .
But, I know mine...I have my room too..my grief..my room!"
And yet when we try and share our grief...
All we have are empty words  that fill this room
A room...empty of grief... Emptiness..in lieu of grief

The Sonnet’s curse and a limerick’s arse


I sat down to write a limerick..a tease
Instead, I wrote a long verse, taking my time
Like the urge to pick your nose, or to sneeze
The poet  in me feels an urge to write in rhyme

The sonnet long has 14 lines from bad to worse..
The poet must write long lines, thought she earns not a dime
At the most akward of times, she breaks into a verse
In her alphabet soup, there lands a poem lame or sublime..

ABABCDCDEFEFGG, is the sonnet’s curse
To make the poem fit the Shakespeare's quatrains..
She forces words to ryhme and that is her curse
In rhymes and syllable rules, life’s meaning drains..

More rules to make it a sonnet?, my verse become that party bore..
No more darn rules, I will stick with free verse and lore

A limerick, again needs to rhyme...
Has to be funny  to stand the test of time...
And bawdy like yes..Edward Lear

Forced to be funny, my verse now just wipes the rear
Who has the time to make a verse rhyme

Rules to make it a limerick? My verse refuses to be that bore..
No rules for me, I will stick with free verse and lore

Aversion

A version of me still loves you..

Not you...I guess.. A version of you...

A version of you...still loves me..

Not me...I guess...A version of me

Aversion...

Forty and more..

As I turn forty, mere numbers on the speedometer..these years.. this  life.,
Miles of my past whizz past, faces, voices..places... feelings...reduced to numbers..
Memories, choices, decisions, moments... vignettes from my life...
Like sand...childhood, teens,college, grad school, love.. marriage, family... the years slip away fast from my fingers
At every cross road, I chose a path then...
A path that found it's way to this moment...now..
Took me farther from that moment... then...
Friends, faces, near and dear...some still with me here... now
Some blurred in the strokes of distance and time diverged... memories from then...
In moments still and  true, I reflect...look back to then.. in nostalgia...
Memories, peace....a tinge of regret.. like ripples on a still lake...
 Thoughts that find no words...Feelings.. Aphasia..
My mind switching from past to present... the road ahead I must take...
Questions? Thoughts? Purpose?...Slowdown? Get ahead? Fast?
And thankfully.. before I can think too much...
The alarm clock rings to another day... Time to make breakfast
Hugs and morning cuddles, my daughter's giggles...  A friend calls...Work ahead...Life is such...
In these moments true and fleeting...I find reason...along the way
Yes, In the path I lead ahead...I know I shall measure not the years..
But  these moments true, when my soul knows it has found it's way...
Yes! Life goes on... Forty and more...in moments true..

Love..it said...

At Vegas tonight, I looked outside the window pane...
A bus stood waiting on the strip outside...
'Love' It said..as it waited for folks to hop on, hop off the sidelane..
Before it leaves on yet another ride..
Flashy billboards, Skyscraper greedy for the skies, Vanity!
Slot machines and poker tables, Cigarette smoke and stench of money
People walking... looking for fun...for sin...A sea of humanity..
Where love is just one night...Honey?
Yes, a bus stood waiting....on the strip outside..
"Love" It said..

My daughter turns 10...

Ten years ago, I held her..the first time amidst happy tears
Afraid to hold her, afraid...  afraid to fail her..
Ten years past, now.. I hold her in my frail fears
Afraid to let go, afraid...afraid that the world will fail her
Ten years hence, I know I will in nostalgia..yearn for these years
Afraid to face an empty nest, when the world beckons her
The years shall pass swift, and moments slow...
There are times, I will give up my world willingly for hers
And sometimes, grudgingly too..in moments low..
She comes first..Yes I will pause my dreams in lieu of her
The quandary is that...she shall my footsteps follow..
Someday when she is a mom, confused like me..
In a bid to be like me, Will she give up her dreams and follow?
That fear then.. makes me pursue my dreams in vigor...once more
I may pause my dreams for her...But..I will once again my dreams follow
Yes, I am Aanya's mom, yes I am...But I am more..
Decades hence,when she thinks of me and does my steps follow..
She shall say..."My mom pursued her dreams...So shall I!

Couples lie...Couplets!

How are you? ..he spoke..hesitant
 "I am fine..and you?" , I asked..resistant...
"All is well" he replied.. "Life goes on..!"
A couple of lies...And we move on...
"What are you thinking about? ", she did ask
" Nothing ",he smiled as he went about his task
And yet, they felt the silent lie
A couple of lies...Yes...Couples lie

Two cuppas chai

Years back, we sat on either side of an old old wobbly table...
People around us in neighboring tables, sipping tea in a relaxed rush...
Some loud, a few louder in their silence, reading sprawled newspapers on the table..
Two cuppas of smoky cardomom chai...stood witness between us...

Two cuppas chai....Strangers unraveling each other's souls...


Years between us, I long once again for that wobbly table...
To sip in silence, two cuppas of cardomom chai...and us..
To once again become strangers, curious unfamiliar souls...with no past labels...
Eager to devour each other's thoughts... as two cuppas chai stand in solidarity with us..

Yes, Two cuppas chai..Wish we were strangers again..unfamiliar souls..

Sakura...

I lie down on the grass and rest my day's worry...
I look up at the expanse of the flowery sky...
The Cherry Blossom flowers bloom...A week or  two to live in beauty...Hurry!
And, yet they claim their  right with all ado...their place of beauty under the sky...
They cherish... they live each moment in an eternal bloom...till they wither without a worry..
Our lives, love, moments, hugs, kisses, kind words...A few till we graciously die...
Yes, cherish these moments slow....Dear!...Hurry!
Make time for moments slow....Before you live a lie...
Yes...Claim your place...Your bloom under the sky...

Take your pick!

Sandwiches to go in a nice large plastic.. carry all...A nice yummy picnic...
A few Ziploc bags to pack, bread, cheese, cookies..nuts, all finery...
Paper towels, trash bags, and of course...disposable cutlery...
And yes, for the journey...a dozen bottled waters to pick..
Don't forget the straws, All use and throw! Easier and quick!
Buy it, Use it, Dump it!....Forget it!....Oh! such luxury!
Tons of trash! Of course...Don't yet make me sick!
Generations from now...or is that  the next one...decries the augury
When my daughter's granddaughters will be terribly sick...
Sick of living in a plasticky hell...And of course! Breathing is a luxury..
Until then..Quick! Load up  the Ziplocs, the ones that never leak
Yes...Of course...A leak, a spill is a  serious problem...A big quandary!
Until then...let us live happily in plastic heaven...or is that hell? Take your pick!

Ode to a tiger mom...

My kid..a genius! I declared!
A normal kid...who plays in the sun and sand?
A kid who... not for pressures of adulthood... cared?
No! Not for me! A genius! A prodigy!..I demand!
My kid..must truly study ahead of her grade...
And in every competition...my kid..she must be first!
If her grades dropped, her playtime, I forbade
My kid should have such hunger for knowledge, Oh! such thirst
My kid...her accolades...her achievements...I love to boast...
And her failures..Ahem! Scream and Yell! She is toast!
And if I hear another tiger mom speak of her kid..boast!
My kid, I shall compare, compete, analyze..until she is roast
Scientific inquiry, mathematical genius, street smart...all in one
Art, dance, and music lessons would add to her repertoire
Coding, yes..robotics will make her the chosen one...
All this while she works hard at her escritoire...
Yes, chess and tennis and swimming would be good
Help prepare her to be an adult who can do it all...
Alas! When my daughter thinks back someday of her childhood..
She will find to her dismay... She was always an adult who did it all...
Yes, She did it all...but be a child and feel the joy of being a child...
My kid..a genius! I declared!

Come to me

When you hear a song... Any song.. Beautiful like us...us together...
When you see a couple.. any couple.
Smiling  in foolish love like us... us together
When you see them hold hands... Entwined clasped hands..
A silent declaration of an endless love, like us together...
When you see someone...anyone... wait for another ..
Yearning... To be together.. Like us together
When you read a poem, a book.. a joke.. A quote.. Words .
That calls out to be shared between souls.. Like us together
When you see a scenic mountain, a river.. a shore... The skies
That taunt and ask you... Why we are not  together...?
Yes. . Then and now.... Whenever. . Your heart will call  wildly for me...
And yes, you will come to me!
You will...

Today...I won't.. Tomorrow..I will

Today, I won't think of you..
I shall will my truant mind..
To remember all I hate of you

And yet,  tomorrow..I will think of you
And yearn for your love and outspoken mind..
There will always be a tomorrow for you..

Just, not today...Today, I won't think of you..

Little..Do they know?... Did we know?

They said that wounds hurt,... leave scars..
Burns... torch and scald the skin forever..
Little do they know...

Your kiss left no visible scars..
Your clasp left no marks... forever
A moment's whim... We did not know....

Those that know and speak ... of scars
Little... do they know...the truth we know..
Of hurt.. Of love... The pain that lasts forever...

Have you held happiness?

Have you held happiness in your palm..forgetting all else
Or have you chased it relentless like it was a furtive butterfly in a flighty path, elusive to all..
Do sit, ever so still...So happiness may grace her presence, a moment or less..
She is a truant mistress, who will call you to her bidding...her beck and call..
To submit to happiness is to wait for her...patient for her gentle mercy...
Beg her, plead or call in anger and she shall ignore your every call .
Wait for her, and she shall come to you, unbidden...

Emptiness is...Heavy

Emptiness is...

...heavy..,

In my vapid soul,

Resides an empty hole..

It contradicts your absence..

With it's reminding presence

...heavy,

Emptiness is...

Loudest in the room...To Mansplaining...

No, I am not the loudest in the room....
No, I won't cut your sentence in its midst...halfway
No, I won't brush your opinion away with a broom
No, I won't reword and paraphrase what you say...
No, I won't dismiss your thoughts saying they have no room...
And yet...I sometimes believe...
I should often be the loudest in the room..
Gag your words with mine and have my way!
Stress my opinion as mine and own the room..
Call you out for rephrasing my existence as you have your say...
Make you admit my thought's credence...Call me a witch with a broom
Use your adjectives, aggressive and more..as though I were in your way...
Maybe, yes, maybe then...I should be in your way...
If that is the only way...we women have our way!
Maybe I should!

The clasp of our fingers...

I often imagine our fingers entwined in a clasp..
Like our souls find themselves...entwined...
Wound around each other...in a cyclic grasp
Our fingers.. though they only know....
The freedom from the other's clasp...
And not the pain from it's loss
Our souls...in utter contrast don't really know...
The escape from love's eternal clasp...
Instead, they know and feel the pain from this loss..
This loss that our careless fingers chose not to grasp..

Somewhere..under the Azure Sky...

Somewhere under the Azure sky...
You and I..
Our restless souls meet and dance, each night..
Unknown to the dormant world...fast asleep..
That..to our resounding love will never wake..

Somewhere under the Azure sky,
You and I...
Our hearts hum the same tune, each day..
Silent, unheard to the noisy world awake..
That, hears not the silent melody of our dreams asleep

Somewhere under the Azure sky..
You and I...

Choice

The burden of  a thousand lives...
A thousand lives that I could have lived
They weigh down the one life I live...
With it's burden, I fight to love and live...
What could be or couldn't be..
Anchors my thoughts, if I let it be..
My buoyant spirit bobs up back and forth in time
In an effort to live and relive the seams of time
Those many crossroads, when both paths did beckon..
And yet, we chose one...for we knew not enough to reckon..
The choices were many....but for the choice...
The choice where we never needed to choose..
Never needed to choose between ...a thousand lives..
When each life was your soul's yearning to choose..